insomnia 2:25a

Scrolling through the endless sea of pictures and inspirational posts on the gram I feel overwhelmed and underwhelmed in the same instance.

Scroll scroll she has a big butt

Scroll he has waves

Scroll someone was strangled in public by the police

Scroll scroll Kendrick won a Pulitzer

Scroll black is the new everything

Scroll scroll scroll passing the indigenous fare skinned americans

Scroll don’t forget your worth

Scroll don’t forget your integrity

Scroll scroll don’t compromise your identity

Scroll scroll a revelation I was here first.

Scroll we were here first.

We belong.

We are originators of the greatest culture and pulse of humanity it is such a shame we don’t love ourselves more. Not saying it’s out of reach either. Just stating how dismayed the concept of self love truly is.

Scroll. Still. Scroll.

Stuck in this cyclical whirlwind of hate, shade, light and love. All on my line of time I don’t have it to waste but alas here I am consumed in twilight; I shifted to neutral while the reverberations happen in my veins and only end up feeling even more out of touch, and out of options. How is it that the very tool used to create and inspire can cage and discourage you? I don’t have the answer but my half-baked solution is to keep going.

Scroll with caution.

Scroll with mental filters on.

Receive only what is needed to align with purpose and elevate to different heights.

Scroll to inspire peace and tranquillity within the soul and make sure you harbor no spirit of comparison just appreciation.

All of which are hard. All of which are worth it.

Scroll. I was here first.

I am the head and not the tail.